


Instinct

by Cephy



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Biting, Community: kinkfest, M/M, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-04
Updated: 2008-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:51:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cephy/pseuds/Cephy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He never feels quite human, even when he looks it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Instinct

He never felt fully human anymore, even when he looked it on the surface. Conflicting instincts, strange urges-- every action tangled up between himself and the four creatures riding around in the back of his head. Two of them were tolerable-- for all that they were at least superficially human, their urges ran slower, more easily recognized and controlled. And Chaos was-- not human, certainly not, but still quieter than the rest. If Vincent were prone to fancy, he'd think the creature was deliberately holding itself separate from him. Watching, maybe. Waiting, though for what he couldn't guess. Its thoughts came to him sometimes, but they were murmuring things, sharp and distant and cold.

The Beast, though-- maybe because it had been with him the longest, had been the first of the lot to wake within his soul, or maybe it was because of the four it was the least human and therefore the most _ruled_ by instinct. Whatever the reason, it was harder to ignore, harder to separate _monster_ from _self_, and keep its urges under control. Harder, sometimes, to even recognize them for the alien things they were and not just follow blindly. On particularly bright nights, he could find himself outside and already poised before he could stifle down the urge to _run, run, race the wind and not look back_. When fighting, it was a thin and fraying control that kept him from gutting his prey with his convenient, damnable claw and ripping into the meat revealed.

He wasn't sure what it said about him-- the _human_ him, or what was left of it-- that such a bestial second self should seem so comfortable.

He didn't even question himself when he leaned in to lick a slow path along Cid's shoulder, inhaled the scent of sweat and musk and _Cid_ from the hollow behind his ear. He only barely kept the thin, needy whine inside his throat as it all tangled together at once, the need to-- to do _something_, to roll the other's body under him or turn up his own belly, to claim or be claimed, the need for dominance warring with the lure of _mate_.

And then Cid did roll him under, hands firm on wrists, and that was good, better, _right_. The other man mouthed his neck, while Vincent arched his head back, waiting for that something, wanting-- only whatever it was didn't come. It wasn't that the stroking fingers at his sides didn't feel _good_, wasn't that he didn't appreciate the friction as Cid moved his leg up, but there was just that something not _quite_\--

The thought occurred, as a hot lick of amusement curled down his spine-- Cid was merely human, after all. Perhaps he needed to be shown how it was done.

Vincent rolled his hips, pushed them over so that his body was pinning Cid's, hand to wrists and thighs over hips. He leaned down to nudge Cid's head up-- and _bit_, lightly at first and then more firmly when Cid yelped and thrashed, and he held the pressure with a faint growl until the other's body went limp under him. And _that_, that seemed to be enough, and he pushed against the body beneath his, grinding forward with wrists still caught in his human fingers. Cid's head was forced back and to the side, Vincent's teeth still scraping the skin, and when Vincent came it was with a throaty sound that he didn't quite recognize.

After several breaths he pulled back enough to lick at the bruised indentations left behind, and then back further until he could see Cid's eyes, looking at him with narrow speculation. Vincent had one moment to wonder--

And then he was on his back again, scarred mechanic's fingers pinning his shoulders while teeth met in the crease where shoulder became neck. Vincent tossed his head back and closed his eyes, while something just beneath his skin rumbled its approval.


End file.
